


Strength In Pain; Or That One Time Laura Roslin Brought Them to Earth and They Didn't Stay

by Dr_Roslin



Series: Strength In Pain; Or That One Time Laura Roslin Brought Them to Earth and They Didn't Stay [1]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Battlestar Galactica - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Buckle up, Cancer Sucks, Canon Divergent, Earth as we know it, Earthlings Aren't Very Nice, HEA, I swear RDM's version is happier, If you tilt your head squint and look in Battlestar Galactica, No Pregnancy, Safe if Triggered by Pregnancy, The Author Regrets Everything, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, alternative ending, but this is my headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23262691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Roslin/pseuds/Dr_Roslin
Summary: Laura Roslin sees the Fleet to Earth, modern Earth this time.The rest of the title says it all, I think.
Relationships: William Adama/Laura Roslin
Series: Strength In Pain; Or That One Time Laura Roslin Brought Them to Earth and They Didn't Stay [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002384
Comments: 23
Kudos: 24





	1. The Plan

**Author's Note:**

> LiveJournal import: 
> 
> Notes, 2020 - The funny thing is, although I am still unhappy with the way RDM ended this, ever since falling into the Reylo fandom, I realized he actually stuck the landing, at least in terms of characters and the emotional heartbeat of the show. Don't get me wrong, in terms of plot, I am still angry for many, many reasons, and if he wants to bring Lee Adama for coffee, I'm happy to give them many course lessons in imperialism, colonialism, archaeology and biology. As well as a sizable piece of my mind. In terms of emotional resonance, though, he made it work, at least for me, which is why I've always been able to fast-forward through those 20 minutes and focus on the rest. I've also always said that I refused to let 20 minutes ruin my favourite show of all time and I'm sticking to that. I think its possible here, in ways I don't with Star Wars, where the ending makes me so - is there a word for angry/despair?
> 
> In any case, this is still the way BSG ends in my brain.
> 
> Notes (2015) 
> 
> So. Here it is. The story I could not get out of my head. I guess at this point it's my Alternate Ending piece, though, honestly, I still hope my muse will strike and I'll be able to write one that is slightly...happier.
> 
> There a few differences, obviously, from the canon. In terms of the show as aired, I tried to stay as canon as possible through Daybreak up until they come out of the the final jump input by Kara. It diverges from there. For the purposes of my AE, both the Galactica and Laura aren't quite as broken as RDM had it. The Galactica still has FTL capabilities and Laura has weeks, not days. Also, they find contemporary Earth, not pre-historic earth.
> 
> The moment I finished BSG I started thinking of how my AE would go, 'cause... you know. You've most likely seen the end, you know. Anyway, again, I had hoped for something happier, but this story just wouldn't get out of my head until I wrote it down. So... Arriving at Earth from Laura's P.O.V

Laura Roslin has a plan.

She has always had a plan, certainly at least once it was clear that the diloxan was killing her but not the cancer, once the chamalla could no longer hold even the pain in bay. She was going to die, but she would do it her way. She would spend her last days in Bill's rack, in Bill's Quarters, on Bill's _Galactica_ , surrounded by Bill's family. She had lost her own, years ago, to cancer and car crashes, and finally, to a stray bullet. She would share Bill's. She had Lee and Kara and Saul and Ellen, and even though they were not the family she had started with, they were the one she loved.

Only once in a long, long, while, once in a blue, blue, moon, did she imagine how, given a choice, she would prefer to die. Cuddled in a camp chair meant for two, with Bill keeping her warm under a warm, red woolen blanket. Outside a cabin, by a stream with water so clear it was looking through glass. Only once in a while did she let herself imagine this death, only once in a blue moon. If she thought too much about what she couldn't have, she'd waste what little time she had left with pointless regrets.  


Laura Roslin knows her death would leave wounded.

She knows it hurts the ones she loves that she increasingly wishes that she could simply go to sleep, knows it hurts them that she’d lost any interest in living. She no longer cared about Quorum politics, no longer cared about the myriad presidential duties that had once taken all her energy. She no longer cared, (at least since they had found the Original Earth), in the prophecies of Pythia, in its pronouncements with regards to the Dying Leader. She simply wanted to crawl under the covers, curl up with the love of her life, and wait for the pain to end.

Only once in a while did she allow herself to picture the impact of her death. Only once in a while did she allow herself to see the strain of her dying on the face of the strongest man she had ever met. She knew it would kill him when she finally went, and so most days she made herself focus on living. The gods truly had a sense of a humour, to save her from the end of worlds, (twice!), to survive New Caprica, to survive Cylons and cancer (at least the first time) and Kobol, and then to make her die. Make her die when she had finally found someone who made her wonder what it would have been like to truly live. She made him promise that he would go on without her. He did, and so she tried to convince herself he wasn't lying. Most of the time she succeeded.

Laura Roslin knows they would find earth, _an_ earth to settle upon. (Eventually).

She just wouldn't be among them. Apollo's bright shiny future wasn't for her, any more than it seemed to be for Starbuck. Not for Kara, who had taken to wandering aimlessly through the halls of the ship, screaming that they were going the wrong way! Laura _did_ care about the pain all three of them were causing Bill, who still managed, alone among them, to get stronger the more damage he took. Still. There was only so much any man could take. For him, then, she tried to remember to smile, and to laugh, and, on very good days, to flirt just a tiny bit. She was rewarded with the way her warmth could fill him up, by the answering light in his eyes. She tried, for him. She couldn't think of any other way to relieve his pain. If it were up to her, she simply take it all and add it to hers, (she'd barely notice). But the gods simply refused to be that kind.

Only once in a while, during this long journey, exiled from two homes, had she allowed herself to imagine what this new Earth might be like. Needless to say, Original Earth had failed to live up to expectations, spectacularly. So, every once in a while, in a long, long while, she allowed herself to imagine a blue orb, with warm, welcoming people. She imagined living on that blue orb, under a bright yellow sun. She imagined swimming in its oceans, having the sun and the surf warm her constantly chilled bones.  
  
So when Starbuck, in desperation, input those final coordinates and her beloved _Galactica_ made that last jump, landing in space above that orb shaded in the bluest of blues, she felt that maybe the gods had decided to give her this last gift after all. Her people would be safe and she could watch them from above as they settled on this rich, warm, planet. Bill would never leave his ship, and she refused to waste these last few days being anywhere he was not.

The surf and the sea and the sky would have to wait. She would sleep, safe in the sky above, while he watched over her, as he had so often done these last few years. There was a reason _Colonial One_ had always orbited next to the _Galactica_. It was the safest place in the fleet, and it symbolized unity among the fleet leadership. She had long needed to be closer to the care provided by _Galactica_ ’s medical personnel and therefore no longer lived on her ship. Still, the symbolism of that harmony, set up after the disastrous disagreement over Kobol, continued to serve them well. As she turned over presidential responsibilities to Lee, as she slowly moved into the tangible warmth of her Admiral’s Quarters, she knew that she would never really return to the ship she had loved. She no longer had a need to. Her people could rest, assured that the Adamas would find a way to make the civil-military relationship work while they negotiated with the peoples of Earth to settle on their new home.

And they appeared welcoming, at least at first. So, despite the early difficulties she encountered with Earth's fractured peoples, Laura refused to be seriously concerned. Her people had survived longer odds that this, and she had Bill and Lee on her side. She had Starbuck to buck her up, and they had even found a way to make this new alliance with the Cylons work. Thanks to their upgrades, the fleet was even able to process badly-needed energy from the excess gases of the planet the Earthlings called Saturn. In the meantime, they seemed to be acting in good faith, sending badly-needed food and medical supplies.

So Laura tried her best to play her part. She took her meds, and she tried to force the pain down, deep inside her, so that she could concentrate. So she could pay attention when Lee briefed her about the United Nations and the United States and the United Emirates; about superpowers and climate change and protest movements, (both for and against them). Laura had never been overly interested in international relations, but she tried to help. Talking to her seemed to help Lee work out his understanding of issues, and she did her best to mentor him. Not that he needed much. He was a natural. So, she refused to be worried. One benefit of dying, she found, was that she could take an optimist approach to the future.

It wasn't until it was reported that Lee and his escort were severely overdue from a routine visit, (from somewhere called Camp David), that she had her first serious moment of concern. Normally Laura would have been amongst them, but she had been having one of her (increasingly common) bad days, and Lee had assured her that he could handle it. He was so careful with her, working to ensure that her role as the living, (or dying), symbol of the 'Lost Colonies of Kobol' remained untarnished. It helped, both for her sense of purpose and in negotiations with the Earthlings. Meanwhile he took over much of the authority and responsibilities of the office of President. She worried about him, particularly since his relationship with Kara remained both unresolved and electric, but he had proven to be as strong as his father.

But when Bill came to his quarters in the middle of his shift to brief her, she knew the situation planet side was worse than she could have imagined. She could almost smell the lightning in the air as her world changed once again. It appeared that Colonial party was delayed, again, and in fact would be delayed indefinitely. The Earthlings had decided to play hardball. They were prepared to hold the Colonial leadership, (in every comfort, of course), until the Fleet agreed to part with some of their advanced technology.

'By which they mean weapons.' Laura said wearily.

'Weapons, FTL drives, information on Cylon biology, food and medicine processing capabilities, communications, etc. Basically everything we have.'

'And with no guarantee that they will welcome us, either in short or long term.'

'No guarantees.'

'They want every piece of leverage we have, and they want to _study_ us.'

'Yes.' Bill scrubbed his face.

Laura couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in his bed, and she knew the stress of Lee's situation only added to his exhaustion. She sighed.

'All of this has happened before and all of this will happen again.'

'What?'

'Humans. We're always the same, when we get scared, this is what we do.'

'The question is, what do we do, now?'

So Laura Roslin came up with new plan.


	2. Six of One

So Laura Roslin came up with new plan.

Walking into her Admiral's Quarters, she knew what she had to do. She loved this man too much; she would not lie to him. She had trusted in his friendship for too long; she would not deceive him. It had always been the two of them; she would do this the right way.

She swore to him that she would keep them both in these rooms until she found a way to convince him. He believed her. That didn’t mean he let her off the hook.

‘Get comfortable, Roslin. No one’s going anywhere.’

‘Bill. It’ll work. I’m not saying it’s a good plan. I’m saying it will work.’

He took off his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. She hated that; he only did it when he was too tired to think straight.

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

‘No. I’m not arguing with you.’

‘We’ll get Lee back. He’ll be safe.’

_You’ll get Lee back. He’ll be safe._

‘And you?’

She knew he was hurting. She knew he had been for months, since Baltar’s trial, since he’d decided it was his duty had been to listen to his conscience and not her, even as her cancer had returned.

‘I’ll be fine.’

She knew, even if he hadn’t told her, that he sometimes thought of this as his punishment. To have her die, in front of him. To make him watch.

‘Really?’ He glanced at her sideways from under his lids, expressing more eloquently than he could with words how well he knew she was lying. The 'Adama look' she'd once called it; it was still just as effective.

She wouldn’t ask him to choose between her and his kids. She’d been there before. She hadn’t liked how it had ended. She knew she shouldn’t blame him for that, but some tiny part of her (a part of her she detested), still did. Blamed him for following Lee’s counsel at the trial, blamed him for breaking with her over Kara, even if she had come back from the dead, even if he'd been right in the end to do so. Even if she loved her too.

In any case, she’d already put him through enough. She wouldn’t make him choose.

‘This is the only way, Bill.’

'No.'

The real subtext to the conversation hung in the air. She wouldn’t say it.

_I’ll be dead in a week or two anyway._

‘We don’t have a lot of time, and this the safest, the quickest, the surest way. The one with the least bloodshed. The one with the least damage. To our people, to theirs.’

He swung around violently before sinking slowly into his chair, deflating.

‘No.’

‘Bill – ’

‘No. I said no.’

She was never going to convince him. She knew that. Still, she had to try. For his sake. And hers.

She let the silence grow between them, let the impact of her arguments sink in.

‘No.’ It came out as a plea.

She simply looked at him, trying to funnel all of her love into him.

‘No.’

She lowered her gaze in shame. She stand seeing, no _causing_ , that much pain.

‘No.’ He was trying not to beg.

And he was failing.

‘Safe, Bill. This will keep them safe.’

‘You think I’ll trade them for you? Lee for you? Just ‘cause you’re dying… You think that’s how I work? It’s not. You think I can't find a way? They want to mess with us? With you?!?!...I’ll find a way.’

For a moment she could barely contain her pride as she saw again her Admiral, as he had been all those years at her side, standing resolute and powerful in front of her. It had beaten him down, everything that had happened; her illness, the betrayals of others, the price paid in blood and the body of the _Galactica_. But it had never broken him.

And, oh, she was tempted. Gods she was tempted. She had to stamp it down. Remember. She had to be strong. She couldn’t pay for her comfort with his soul.

‘Bill. Think of the costs. Think of the casualties; theirs and ours. And for what? This will work.’

‘You think I care about them? You think I give a _frak_ about them?’

‘Bill – ’

‘It’s you I need.’

She sighed. He couldn’t keep her. At least not for long. Let her give him this. Let her give him Lee.

‘You. I have you. I’m not giving you up.’ He sighed. ‘At least not to them.’

‘And Lee?’

‘We’ll get him back. They’ll see sense. We’ll _make_ them see sense.’ He glared at her. ‘I’m not giving them you.’

She cupped his face again in her hands.

‘Bill. You have to let me go.’

He stared into her with his blue eyes as he leaned in, as he peered into her soul.

‘No.’

She found out later from Saul that the argument got so uncharacteristically loud that the marines posted outside the Admiral’s quarters had called him. He had listened only a second before he sent them to stand post down the hall before positioning himself in front of the hatch.

As the argument continued, as tempers deteriorated, Bill resorted to guilt and personal invectives, delivered in a viciously quiet tone. Yet, Laura stood firm. She looked up as Saul stepped in to assess the damage. Clearly feeling as though he was taking his life in his hands, he turned to Laura. Hearing her plan clearly did nothing to reassure him. Steadfast in her resolve, she stood quietly before him.

She could see the sorrow on his face. ‘So,’ he said, ‘it’s time.’

She consulted with him often as she put her plan into action; she trusted no one else with her Admiral. Their friendship was amongst the most remarkable she had ever seen, she had always admired it. _What must it be like,_ she had often wondered, _to have someone that firmly on your side?_

She had only been able to imagine that type of mutual support before gaining the trust of the stoic Commander of the last Battlestar.

_And not a moment too soon._

Cancer was a bitch.


	3. Lay Down Your Burdens

Laura Roslin has a plan.

She knows it’s a bad plan. She knows that it has stupid written all over it. She knew this, knew it even before Bill tore it to shreds; knew it even before he called in Saul and then Kara to do the same. She knows it’s a bad plan, that the chances of it succeeding are slim. She also knows she has few options and that none of them are good. She blessed Lee’s foresight. Maybe he had inherited some of his father’s famous prescience after all. Even then, it's a rotten plan. It's still the only one she’s got. She prays to the gods she had only recently started believing in (and whom of late she had spent much time cursing) that it might be enough.

Only once in a while did she wonder what she had done to anger them. Since their discovery of the Original Earth she had questioned the gods, questioned her role in the prophecies and as leader of the Colonies. Maybe she'd be wrong to do so. Maybe this had been the plan all along; maybe this is what the prophecies meant when they spoke of the Dying Leader and the search for a new home.

No. She refused to believe that.

She had increasingly come to believe destiny was overrated.

She was Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, Beloved of William Adama, Admiral of the Colonial Fleet. She was the mother of her people, and through Bill, the mother of Starbuck and Apollo. Most importantly, she was the master of her own fate. She would remember that, as she did what needed to be done.

Walking into the _Galactica_ ’s hanger deck, she smiled at the petite blond woman chosen to pilot her Raptor to the surface.

_When you care enough to send the very best_ , she thought.

A man as stoic Bill Adama expressed his love through actions as well as words. He would wrap her in care if he couldn’t be there to wrap her in his arms. He couldn’t escort her down to Earth, he'd accepted it. So. He had chosen Kara Thrace, his best pilot and, more importantly, his daughter in all but blood.

Standing on the landing strip of the Raptor, she turned to hold his eyes as the honor guard completed the formal ceremonies. She felt little need to cry, despite her earlier fears. She could still feel his lips on hers, feel his arms protectively around her. Feel the imprint of his lips from minutes previously, when he had whisked her into an unoccupied corridor and had slammed her into the bulkhead, covering her protectively with his body. Feel the imprint from when he had kissed her as if they had never heard of cancer, had never heard of diloxan. Never heard of Pythia or the prophecies. Never been exiled, twice, from their home.

She kept her focus on his cobalt gaze and could almost feel his strength flowing into her, could almost feel him try to wrap his love around her from a distance.

His voice boomed across the hanger deck, echoing across the crowd, which was massive but deadly quiet.

‘Laura Roslin: President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. Departing!’

Laura held his gaze until the hatch closed. She then turned to her pilot. Starbuck was as serious as Laura had ever seen her. Despite acting as Laura’s official escort, she was dressed in her flight suit and carried her side arm. This was not a ceremonial mission.

Laura moved into the co-pilot seat as Kara strapped in and began pre-flight procedures. She would have the best view out the windshield onto the _Galactica_ ’s flight deck from this angle. She had no intention of giving up any of that precious view. She had no intention of sitting demurely in the back when she could console herself with the view and when she could be comforted by the presence of family.

She waited until they had cleared the bulk of the old battlestar and the remainder of the fleet before asking Kara to put on the autopilot, just for a moment. They hadn’t yet begun their descent into the planet’s atmosphere. They could spare a few minutes. She had things that needed to be said, things needed to be done.

Moving quickly, Laura surprised Kara by unstrapping and moving into her personal space, hugging the younger woman her even as she sat in the pilot’s seat. She breathed in her pilot's familiar scent and tried to remember the time when she hadn't known it. Although Kara, never entirely comfortable with affection, froze for a second, Laura waited until she relaxed and hugged her back before letting go.

‘Listen, Kara, we don’t have a lot of time, and we won’t have a chance when we reach Earth. There are some things I need you to know. I know that we haven’t always seen eye to eye...’

She smiled at the memory of holding a gun on Kara in Adama’s quarters. Thank the gods she hadn’t shot Bill’s daughter. Thank the gods she’d missed and the bullet had gone wild. Thank the gods Kara hadn’t shot _her_. The gods had clearly been looking after them both. She was grateful Bill had trusted Kara when Laura herself couldn’t afford to, couldn’t afford herself to risk the entire Fleet, couldn’t afford to follow her heart. Bill had found a way to do that without putting any of them at risk, and she'd always been grateful, no matter how much it had cost. No matter how much it had hurt her. Hurt _them_. He’d found a way, and she thanked the gods for that.

‘Madame President- Laura...’  
  
‘No, wait. We’ve always been on the same side, and we’ve always wanted the same thing, cared for our people, our family. And I’ve always thought you were one of the most remarkable people I’d ever met. I've known it, ever since that godsforsaken moon when you were stranded and Bill and Lee lost their minds. They told me a little about you, that day, and I knew then, from the way they spoke of you, from the way they reacted to losing you, that you would be someone I could love.’

‘Laura, _frak_. Listen...’

‘I know New Caprica changed us, I know it pushed you to the edge. I’ve always thought that you and I were sometimes alone in understanding exactly _how_ it changed us. Even those who loved us could never completely understand, the ways in which we were different people, after.

And I know you’ve had a tough time since.’

‘We’ve _all_ had a tough time. Since.’

‘Yes. But you, in particular. I don’t know how, or why, you’ve came back to us after we lost you in that storm, but I am just so, so, grateful that you did. Grateful for _you_ , Kara. Not just for your role in the prophecy, or for bringing us here. I’m grateful for _you_.

I know that Bill must have told you. That you’re his daughter. You must know it.’

‘He’s told me.’

‘But you have to _know_. Know because it’s true. Whatever else you know or think you know about yourself, you have to _know_ that. Take it deep inside your heart. _Own it_.’

‘I know. I _will_.’

‘Good, because he loves you so much. He’s so proud of you.’

‘I know.’

‘He’s always been proud of you, you know that, right? Even when he’s worried about you, even when he’s kicking your ass.’

_Even when he’s kicking the chair out from under you._

‘I know.’

‘Good. Because I hoped, if it’s okay, to share in some of that with him. To feel a little bit, like you're mine, too.’

Kara looked like she was holding back tears.

‘Frak. _Don’t._ Don’t frakking do this.’

‘I’d like to think that his kids are my kids.’

‘Laura – ’

‘You know, since I don’t have any of mine. At least, not since Billy.’

‘Please – ’

‘So, I’d hoped you wouldn’t mind that I’ve come to think of you that way. And that you’d let me be proud of you, too. That you’d let me worry about you, too. Just a little bit. And that you’d miss me, that you’d think of me, pray for me, from time to time.’

‘Laura – ’

Laura smiled. ‘One more thing that we share which others find difficult to understand.’

She took a deep breath, feeling her chest constrict with the effort. It would be so much easier if she could just cry. But the tears simply refused to come.

‘And, Kara, I’m sorry. I’m so very, very sorry. But I need to ask you one last thing.’

‘Anything.’

‘You have to be there where I can’t. You have to take care of those whom I can’t. And you have to do it as long as it needs to be done.’

‘Frak. You know I will. As long as I can, I will.’

‘You can’t run, Kara. You can't run, and you can’t leave. You need to be _there_. You need to take care of them. You don’t have to take care of them all. Just those two. Just _my_ two. I don’t know what the plan was when you returned, and I don’t really care. This is all you need to know, all you need to do. I know you’re hurting right now, but I need you to do this. So _stick around_.

And promise me.’

Kara was crying. ‘I promise. I promise.’

Laura nodded, her eyes still dry.

'Good. And take care of yourself too. Take care of my girl. Remember to do that, too, from time to time.’

This time Kara hugged her fiercely before Laura had a chance.

She was always surprising Laura, this girl. Her Starbuck.

‘Alright then. Let’s get a move on. We’ve got things to do and not a lot of time.’  



	4. Razor

Laura Roslin knew her death would leave wounded. 

She hadn’t the faintest idea what she was going to tell Lee. There had been no way to tell him in advance of the plan, no way to prepare him, no channel secure enough to give him fair warning. She hoped she wouldn’t have to explain it to him. She knew he was smart, she knew he was adaptable, and she knew he was perceptive. She knew he wouldn’t like this plan, but she hoped he would go along with it. 

Only once in a while, in a long, long while, did she allow herself to remember life as it was before the attacks. Before the cancer, before the constant fighting and hoping and running away. When she allowed herself to remember that life, she thought of sun and surf and the wind in her hair. She remembered her idealism and optimism, traits that seemed to have belonged to another woman, a gentler, easier one.

Most of the time she forgot about that woman, that life, but every once in a while, in a blue, blue moon, she remembered her. It happened most often when she was with Lee. The truth was she saw something in him, something that reminded her of all of those wonderful things that humans were capable of, his determination to do the right thing. It was also the reason that he drove her up the wall from time to time. But, oh, the potential she saw in him…

It had driven his father crazy, from time to time, the link before her and his son. Particularly in the early days, when Bill and Laura had been far from close, when she found it easier to confide in the younger Adama. Bill’d resented the connection between Laura and her Captain Apollo. _Though,_ she smiled, _mostly because he resented the fact that Lee never confided in_ _ **him**_ _._

_‘He’s your son.’_

_‘He’s your adviser.’_

Sometimes she was afraid that Bill was still resentful of what he saw as her attempts to steal his son, (which maybe she ultimately had). Sometimes she was afraid that he was still resentful of the easy camaraderie she and Lee had fallen into the moment she met him on _Colonial One._ Of course it didn’t help when Lee took her side when Bill had decided to stage his ill-fated coup. She understood that for Lee it was a matter of principle, but Bill took these types of decisions personally. _I never thought I’d be grateful to Boomer for shooting him._ Without that, would Bill Adama ever have come to Kobol? Come to believe in her?

Yet, the fact remained that he had, and their connection had grown every day that followed. At the same time, her decisions, her compromises had strained that early connection with Lee. Kobol; Admiral Helena Cain; the Agathon’s baby; the election; settling on New Caprica; all of these had chipped away at his faith in her integrity.

New Caprica. Laura’d been speaking the truth when she’d reminded Starbuck that no one who hadn’t be there would ever be able to fully understand events there. The entire debacle had hardened her determination to get her people to get to Earth safe, driven her closer to Bill. At the same time it had caused her to drift away from others, including Lee. She also had some idea of the damage New Caprica’s legacy had done to Lee; to his sense of worth, to his relationship with Kara.

And then Baltar’s trial. Lee’s actions then had hurt her, especially when he’d had to force her to reveal the return of her cancer. It’d been her decision, in the end, but still… She, who been so proud of her ability to forgive, hadn’t found it as easy as she’d hoped, even as his father had quickly embraced his son following the Battle of Ionian Nebula. _Adamas_. _Quick to anger, but given the option, quick to forgive._ She envied that. It was hard for her.

So, yes, as she sat in her raptor heading down to Earth, she had no idea what to say to Lee. Reaching out to Kara was easy, in retrospect. Their disagreements had always been political, not personal. For the Adama men, _everything_ was personal.

The Raptor touched down perfectly, Kara’s casual competence showing in its every move. She moved quickly back to the passenger section of the Raptor as Laura stood waiting. As the hatch opened, Kara stood at attention while maintaining a wary eye on their surroundings, her weapon loose in her holster. 

Laura jumped down slowly and gingerly onto the tarmac on which they had landed before turning and then carefully, if awkwardly, returning Kara’s salute. Kara then passed her the cooler they had brought along with them and returned to attention. Laura didn’t turn around, but she could feel Kara’s eyes on her through the front windows of the Raptor. She walked about 20 feet down the tarmac and carefully set it down before standing beside it. She hoped they wouldn’t be long in meeting her. Standing was no longer her strong suit. 

Thankfully, as she looked down the tarmac, she saw the Colonial group approaching, Lee in the lead. Natalie and Gauis Baltar followed behind. Gaius and Natalie, what a combination. For just a moment, she imagined the figure of Tom Zarek walking alongside them. _The devil you know, indeed._ She’d really thought she _knew_ him, knew the real him, the human being under the swarm and the rhetoric. She still couldn’t believe she had misjudged him so much. Maybe she’d wanted too badly for him to _be_ one of the good guys, to be a true political ally and, maybe, a friend to her. So yes, maybe she’d wanted it too badly.

_Or maybe the experience of the Original Earth just pushed him over the edge._

‘Captain Apollo.’

‘Please. Please don’t do this.’

So quick. It seemed he had guessed her plan after all.

‘I need you off this rock, and we don’t have a lot of time.’ 

‘Madame President...’

She hoped the Earthlings would take the movement for what it was as she wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug. She felt him quickly respond, taking care to be gentle while squeezing her. After a moment, she stepped back but kept his hands in hers. She looked directly into his bright blue eyes _(so much like his father, so different from his father)_ , trying to use them to express her deep-seated affection for him.

‘Seriously, Lee, just trust me and get in the Raptor.’

She broke off to give Natalie a smile and a squeeze of the hand as she walked by her and quickly boarded the Raptor. _So much history. So much water under the bridge._ Thanks the gods they hadn’t told the Earthlings the truth about Natalie, her position as leader of the Cylon faction. They’d never have gotten her off the planet in that case. Laura had a flash of Gina Inviere and what she’d endured under Cain and the _Pegasus_ crew and shuddered. At least she wouldn’t be responsible for leaving Natalie to endure the same fate. 

She couldn’t quite manage the same sense of forgiveness for Gaius, so she just tried to smile as her former vice-president/adversary passed by. Despite everything, maybe they had needed him on this journey, after all.

In any case, he was Colonial, so he was hers.

Returning her attention to Lee, she smiled at the worry written all over his face. She had no idea how he ever won at Triad, his worries were always written all over his face. 

‘I can’t believe my father let you do this.’

‘Since when does your father let me do anything?’

They both smiled, and she liked to think he shared her memory of the two of them, locked up in the _Galactica’s_ brig the last time she’d done something its commander hadn’t approved of. It seemed like a lifetime ago, her and Bill at loggerheads over Kobol and Kara and Lee.

She sighed. The sequel to that fight, when Kara’d returned from the dead, had been worse. It had gotten personal, and it had gotten mean.

They’d moved beyond it, forgiven each other, even as she realized she had to give up a measure of control. Had to let others take part of her burden, both in her life and in her work. She’d never been good at that.

Lee was continuing. ‘You know, he told me once, how grateful he was for you.’

‘He did?’

He nodded.

‘It was after Cain died, when we were struggling to deal with her legacy.’

‘Ahh.’

‘We were fighting over what it meant…’

Laura snorted. 

‘Yeah, I know, surprise, we were fighting. Anyway, he told me that he was grateful, he could have never gone the path Cain, thanks to the people who’d been there with him.’

‘Really?’ Laura smiled. It was so like him.

‘Yeah. “I had the President in my face,” he said “arguing for the survival of the civilian fleet.” He said it grounded him, even when you weren’t seeing eye to eye.’

She looked at him sadly, realizing he was trying to send her off with a pleasant memory, an indication of the impact of her efforts. One she could cling to. 

‘It wasn’t unusual for us, not to see eye to eye. It’s still not.’

They smiled at each other.

‘Still. Thank you, Lee, for that.’

‘Thank you, Madame President. For everything.’

They looked at each other for a moment, trying to communicate in that moment what their friendship had meant to each other. They’d only met three short years ago, but given the nature of that time, it was no wonder she felt closer to the people on this path than she had anyone since her family had died.

The flight from Caprica; it felt so long ago. Who knew it could end like this? 

‘Take care of your father while I’m gone. All of them, really, but especially him. The Fleet needs the two of you.’

She hoped he could read the sub-text between her words. 

He sighed, and she could almost see the responsibilities she just given him settle on his shoulders. _Well, again, just as with his father, his shoulders were broad enough._ Still, she would have spared him that, if she could. 

_That’s the nub, isn’t it? You have to accept that there’s nothing you can control, not anymore. Though, to be honest, has there ever been?_

‘I will.’

‘Now go.’

He surprised her (it seemed he always did), when he brought himself up sharply to attention and saluted her with all the crispness of the Colonial officer he had been not so long ago. She struggled to control the tears.

_Let the Earthlings see what strength looks like,_ she thought. _Let them see the best of us._

Lee was Lee, whether in dress greys or pinstripes. She wished she had trusted him more over the years; of all of them, he was the one most determined to pursue the right path, no matter what it cost him. 

‘Madame President.’

He waited until she returned his salute, then, turning sharply, he moved to walk quickly towards the waiting Raptor.

‘Oh, and Lee…’

He turned once again, waiting, still at attention. 

‘I’m proud of you.’ 

_I wish you’d been mine. As much as Kara, I_ _**really** _ _wish you’d been mine._

‘No more than I am of you, Madame President.’

Saluting again quickly, he boarded the Raptor. Moments later, Laura met his eyes through the windshield. Even before the hatch was fully closed, he had taken his place in the co-pilot’s seat. _Good._ Retired or not, he was still the second best pilot in the fleet. The best, Kara, sat next to him. 

Laura stood and watched the Raptor take off, and counted the seconds even as the first Earthlings rushed towards her. _How long does it take for those things to clear the atmosphere again?_ Once there, they were untouchable. She reassured herself. Kara would get them home.

She reminded herself to breathe as the first man grabbed her and began searching her quickly. He was surprisingly gentle. A second man moved equally quickly to the cooler at her feet and went through it as if it were a bomb. Which it was, although not of the traditional sort. More of an existential one.

She waited until they were finished. Taking advantage of a momentary pause, she smiled and waved her hand gently in the direction of the hanger in the distance.

‘Shall we?’


	5. Act of Contrition

Laura Roslin had always known they would find earth, _an_ earth to settle upon. _(Eventually.)_

She just wouldn’t be among them.

Only once in a while, once in a long, long while, did she imagine what life would be like for those who would leave her behind to settle upon their new home. Only once in a while did she imagine the Earth beyond her prison doors, the Earth that she would have liked to experience before she died. She knew she would never experience its sun, for she'd known before she'd walked through them the doors in front of her were those of a prison, even if the Earthlings never referred to them as such.

Nevertheless, they were courteous and gentle. Further, they seemed determined to give her the best medical care they could. She could have told them not to worry, but really, why bother? For the most part, she just let them buzz around her like the inconsequential flies they were. She submitted to their tests and answered all their questions, their medical ones at least. She even tried to answer the ones they had regarding the samples from the cooler. The political questions they asked, and the personal ones, those she ignored.

The good news was, it took them awhile to suspect the true nature of her plan. Bill’s kids, _her_ kids, were safely out of their reach. She’d done it. She’d managed to talk the Earthlings into exchanging her for Lee. They didn’t realize that they’d gotten the short end of the stick. The prophecies called her the Dying Leader for a reason. Still. Maybe the Earthlings went for it because they thought they could cure her. 

_No Laura_ , her pragmatic voice whispered. _They accepted because they refused to believe your people would leave you behind._

For that, in the end, had what her plan had come down to. Bill and the others leaving her behind. The hard part had been convincing the earth authorities, and she’d had to talk fast to do it. She’d lied. She’d pretended to believe them when they told her that, _of course_ she’d be free to return to her Fleet in a few days. Then she’d distracted them with talk of the Cylon biological samples. _A gift to indicate we want to share our knowledge._ She’d drawn the line at giving them actual Cylons corpses. They may be Cylons, but they were _hers_. They wouldn’t be turned over to the Earthlings to be _studied_.

She shuddered. _Yeah, just you. Oh well. At least I’ll be dead._

She pretended as long as she could that this was simply a normal part of the negotiation process. As long as they treated her with respect, she reciprocated. Her reward came when they didn’t cut off her wireless access. She spoke to Bill daily, each pretending that this was an unavoidable, if unfortunate, delay. They knew they had listeners, and they refused to divulge their connection, so they kept it professional. Maybe he called her ‘Madame President,’ and maybe she referred to him as ‘The Admiral’, but it was worth it. He had such a lovely voice. In any case, everything they said translated the same way in her brain;

_I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you._

As the days dragged on, though, it became harder to hide the fact that the Colonials had no intention of giving the Earthlings anything, even as Laura’s condition deteriorated. Sensing they were losing their bargaining chip (and perhaps even sensing that they had been played), the earth authorities started hardening their approach. Wireless access became less ‘reliable’. Laura sensed that the end was coming, in more way than one. As a result, her patience, never great, frayed. 

Every day she asked if she could go outside, and every day the answer remained the same. _Can’t guarantee your safety. Not secure. Not safe._ Finally, one particularly gruelling day of never-ending questions she had not intention of answering, she lost her temper. She knew her body was failing. More and more she was restricted to bed rest. More and more she needed oxygen to breathe. Her time was coming to an end. Soon she wouldn’t be able to go outside. So when a member of her borrowed ‘security detail’ repeated his lines for the umpteenth time, she lost it. 

She laughed. 

‘Not safe for who? For me? Or for you?’

She was aware that she was kept in the most secure location they had, one they thought was impregnable, deep underground. 

‘You think you’re safe here?’

‘President Roslin...’

‘You think you’re safe? Here? Safe behind your steel doors? In your fortress deep underground?’

‘President Roslin, please believe us. We only want to ensure your safety.’

‘You think I believe you? You think I believe anything you say? You think I’ve ever believed anything you’ve _ever_ said?’

‘Please...’

‘I’m here because I have to be. Not because I want to be, because I have to be. But also not because of you and your mighty armies. If they wanted to come for me, you wouldn’t stand a chance. If they wanted to come for me, they would cut through your defences like a hot knife through butter.’

‘President Roslin...’

‘Like a hot knife through _frakking butter_.’

Things started moving rather quickly after that. So many representatives of Earth’s military came to see her they had to crowd into a small conference room down the hall from her room. They had stopped visiting her for the most part after the first few day, when it became clear that she didn’t plan to answer any of their questions. It was clear that their political masters had forbidden them from pushing too hard, thinking negotiations were ongoing. Now their pit-bulls were back. They had clearly been authorized to push harder. 

They sensed they were losing their chance to gain access to Colonial technology. She wondered if they knew what she’d known, making this plan, that the Fleet had found a new home in a neighbouring galaxy.

Finally, after hours of interrogations, it was becoming clear that, given her medical condition, pushing her harder would only be counterproductive. She was so worn down she got confused easily and her answers were often contradictory. 

_Frak, she was tired._

They kept yelling at her, pushing her for answers, but, honestly, it was as if she was looking at them from underwater.

‘You don’t understand, do you? It’s a Colonial _battlestar_. A _battlestar_. You have no idea what it’s capable of. You can’t even _conceive_ of what it’s capable of. Not only is it a battlestar, one of the original twelve, it is the _Galactica_. The _Galactica_ , a veteran of _two_ Cylon wars. It held off _four_ Cylon basestars until reinforcements could arrive over New Caprica. It was frakking _decommissioned_ and it still brought us here safe.’

‘President Roslin, I’m think you’re underestimating what the people of _Earth_ are capable of.’

‘I’m not. I’m sure you’re capable of almost anything, but you still have no idea. It’s not only the technological disparity, this is the Battlestar _Galactica_ , and it’s _Adama_. It could destroy you without even trying. The scary thing for you is, it wouldn’t even have to.’

She tilted her head, looking at them like they were some new type of insect she’d wanted to study.

‘If they wanted me, they’d come get me.’

‘President Roslin, please believe us when we say that we mean you no harm. However, we will not allow your Fleet to infringe upon our sovereignty or to harm our people.’

‘Don’t worry, whatever happens to me, your people won’t be harmed. They’re leaving. After I die they’ll go, leave you in peace.

But for the _love_ of the gods, let me go outside while I still can.’

‘I’m sorry President Roslin, but for security reasons...’

‘I know, I know.’

She was so tired. She was so thankful when they slowly cleared the room. She had so little time left, she didn’t want to waste it arguing Earth’s military authorities. She wasn’t to be let completely off the hook, though. The female marine assigned to take her back to her room stood, gazing at her with what appeared to be both fear and disdain. As they walked down the short hallway, the younger woman let out a small snort of disgust.

‘You’re so full of it.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You’re full of. You think you’re so much better than us. Who do you think you are?’

‘I think I’m dying and even then you’re too scared to let me breathe your precious Earth air.’

‘Maybe they don’t even _care_ if they get you back. Isn’t that the real reason you’re still here? Isn’t that why haven’t they come for you? If your fleet, if your precious Admiral, is so powerful, why doesn’t he come and get you?’

She was so tired, Laura thought as she climbed into the small hospital bed. _Where was Bill again? My head aches, why isn’t he here with his broad shoulders?_ She shivered. _I am so cold. Why isn’t he here to warm me?_

_Oh, right._

‘I ordered him not to.’


	6. Someone to Watch Over Me

Laura Roslin knew her death would leave wounded. 

She just hadn’t known how many.

Doc Cottle had warned her that there would be good days and bad. Increasingly it appeared she was out of good.

More and more she found it hard to leave her room, let alone get out of her bed. More and more she was dependent on oxygen. 

Luckily, the ‘problems’ with the wirelessly mysteriously disappeared. She wasn’t sure if it was the fight she’d had with the Earth authorities, or whether it was a result of their growing realization that she only had a matter of days left. For whatever reason, the Earthlings improved her access to the wireless, allowing her to communicate more often with the Fleet. She was grateful. Her conversations with her family were often filled with silence more often than words as she could barely breathe, but still, she treasured the connection.

‘Madame President.’

‘Admiral.’

‘It’s good to see you.’

‘It’s good to see you, too.’

She smiled. The greeting was always the same. It filled her with warmth.

‘Everything okay upstairs?’

‘Yes, Madame President.’

‘Please tell President Adama how grateful I am he and Kara are safe.’

‘Yes, Madame President.’

‘You should leave. Proceed with the settlement of the planet the Raptor scout found.’

‘Yes, Madame President.’

‘That’s my Lee; always prepared. Turns out he takes after you.’

She heard his smile. ‘Thank you for that.’

‘Admiral. Seriously. There’s no longer any reason for you to be here anymore. Leave. Take the Fleet. Start the settlement.’

‘Yes, Madame President.’

‘Why do I think you aren’t listening to me?’

‘I always listen to you, Madame President.’

‘And yet you refuse to do what I say.’

‘Get your lazy ass out of that rack and come up here and make me.’

She smiled. She was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open and she really couldn’t breathe, but he still made her smile. She wished she could see his smile one last time. It was so lovely. It changed his whole persona.

She knew it was time. She was dying. It was time. Time to let him go.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Admiral?’

‘Tomorrow, Madame President.’ 

She just wasn’t ready yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on twitter at @randombks if you want to come say hi.


	7. Daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning - this is going to hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we know, Bill Adama can give a speech.

Laura Roslin has a plan.

It’s a bad plan, but it’s the only one she’s got. She just wishes she hasn’t had to go through with it so soon.

She lost track of time shortly thereafter. She drifted in and out of consciousness; her only sense of time the increasingly short conversations through the wireless. They tethered her to this life, and even though she knew she was being selfish, she found it hard to let go.

_ I’m not ready. I don’t want to go. _

__

Increasingly, though, she knew she didn’t have a choice. One afternoon, as she lay in her small bed and even the oxygen couldn’t keep her fully conscious, she heard the wireless crackle.

‘Madame President.’

She smiled wearily and forced herself to answer. If only she could just drift off listening to him.

‘Admiral.’

‘It’s good to see you.’

‘It’s good to see you, too.’

The silence lasted longer than usual, but she didn’t care. She concentrated on the reassuring sound of his breathing.

She must have drifted off, because she woke again to the sound of his voice across the wireless.

‘This is the Admiral. A long time ago I spoke to you as Laura Roslin rested with us on the  _ Galactica _ . I asked those of you who believed in the power of prayer to pray for our President, and I asked for all of you to join with me in keeping her in our thoughts. President Roslin is a fighter. But the cancer has progressed, and the doctors tell me that she doesn’t have long. While we wish we could always have her with us, we must instead be grateful that we have been blessed with her presence these last few years.’

Maybe she only thought she heard his voice catch.

‘President Roslin has been denied her  _ right _ to spend her final days with her Fleet, with her family, by the authorities of Earth. They have denied her this, the way they have denied her access to the stars, to air and wind and sun, these previous weeks. Instead, she lies dying in an anonymous hospital bed deep underground, surrounded by strangers. The Earthlings have done this so they might use her as leverage, as one tool among many, to compel us to submit to their demands. Their demands for our technology, our biology. For our obedience. Increasingly, it is apparent that it is our subservience, not our friendship, which they seek. Increasingly, they have made our settlement on their planet subject to these demands. This is their right. It is our right, however, to refuse.’

She could hear the rage simmering under his stoic voice as, again, he focused on controlling it.

‘President Roslin has long argued against submitting to these demands, has argued against agreeing to these conditions, has argued that to do so would be against our interests and those of our children, our children’s children, of their children. She was not alone. In accordance with our President’s wishes, Acting President Adama, along with the Quorum of Twelve, has decided that we should leave this system. We must settle elsewhere. They, and I, are saddened that we must leave behind our brothers in humanity, saddened that we are to settle in a system far from here, saddened that we must leave this beautiful planet they call Earth. It is unlikely that we will choose to return. We hope that one day we will meet again with our distant cousins. Perhaps, in the future, humans from this world will find a way to work with us to bridge the gap that now exists between us. For now, we must seek out our future elsewhere.

President Roslin will not be with us. Again, it is with her explicit wishes in mind that the Fleet leadership is proceeding in this manner. She has made it very clear that she wishes to avoid any bloodshed with the people of Earth. It is her choice, her decision, her orders that we follow when we assure them that we will not use force to regain our beloved President. We will follow  _ her _ wishes,  _ her _ will _ , _ even though Earth authorities have refused our basic,  _ human _ right to comfort in her final hours or even to reclaim her body once she has left us to join our ancestors. In order to respect her wishes, therefore, we must leave her in their hands. We will not do so, however, while she still lives, while she lies languishing amongst a people not her own. We will not leave her without assuring her that we do so only under the utmost duress, with conflict in our minds and with the breaking of our hearts.

Laura Roslin cannot join us on this last leg of our journey. So. I am asking you, in this, her final hours, to pray for her, and to keep her in your thoughts.  _ Comfort her.  _ Let her know you are grateful for all she has done to bring us all here, to keep us safe.  _ Comfort her. _ Let her know how grateful you are for  _ her _ .  _ Comfort her. _ Let her know that while her body might be held by others, that does not mean we have forgotten her, it does not mean we will leave her spirit behind.  _ Comfort her. _ Let her know that while we cannot bring her with us, we will be accompanied in this, the final leg of our journey, by her memory, her heart, and her soul.  _ Comfort her _ . Let her know that she is loved.’

She smiled as she snuggled into the pillow that only ever smelled like anesthetic.

She might be dying, along and far from home, but she was loved.

Of all that he could have given her, he had given her that.

She dreamt then, of a cabin by an icy, free-flowing stream.

She dreamt then, of Bill, and of a red plaid blanket, and of a night spent dozing under the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, dear reader, this is the closest thing this fiction has to a happy ending. If you want to join me for the pain (it is good angsty pain, so there's that :) ), the epilogue will be up in the next few days. 
> 
> Feel free to yell at me, either here or on twitter @RandomBks


	8. Epilogue: No Exit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill's P.O.V.

They tried to use her dead body as _leverage_.

She hadn’t even been dead yet. He didn't know if they knew of their...connection...but they’d certainly tried to use it.

_Surely you would want to have her body returned to her people after she passes, Admiral. You, of all people, would want a chance for closure, to have the chance to commemorate her life. Let us help you with that. Give us something, anything. Give us a reason to release her body to you. Surely, she deserves that._

_Surely, you don't want to have her body dissected for medical science._

He was grateful to her, for preparing him for that, for preparing him for every move they made.

When they offered to give her access to a video link in exchange for their food processing systems.

When they offered to release her in return for a Raptor.

When they offered to throw in a dozen nukes in return for the Cylon corpses in his morgue.

When they offered to let her die on the _Galactica_ in return for Colonial FTL technology.

When they asked him what he would give them if they let her spend her last hours outside.

The worst came when she was dead, when they had sent him conclusive video proof, when their doctors spent ten minutes going over the minutia of her death. When they told him what would happen next.

When they live-streamed the coverage of her dissection on an open channel so the entire Fleet could _watch_.

He was grateful to Laura, then, for ensuring Saul was there to prevent him from either caving to their demands or from putting a frakking nuke into their frickin' frakkin’, _shitty_ little planet.

He successfully resisted the urge to destroy, instead cutting off the wireless connection abruptly and ordering the FTL jump. Her orders to him had been to ensure that the entire Fleet made it safely to their new home once she was dead. He would do anything to follow her last wishes, even as he stood in the CIC and wept openly as he left her behind.

His crew loved him. They pretended not to notice.

This new world was safe and fit for human settlement, even if it was slightly smaller, colder, and therefore, poorer, than the world they had just left. (There were no indigenous peoples on it, to Bill’s relief.) In any case, the rich, prosperous planet known as Earth had lost all of its beauty for him the moment they had locked Laura deep underground, so far underground she couldn't even dream of the sun.

So he concentrated on working instead with Lee, to build, to establish Laura’s people safely on this new world. Lee kept him up to date on the ongoing referendum on what to name the new planet, on the preparations for general elections to be held the next year, on the process of establishing their new settlement, but to be honest, Bill didn’t really care. He lived on autopilot, trying to stay as numb as possible. He travelled from the CIC to his quarters and back, never deviating from the pattern he’d established for himself. He didn’t sleep a lot, but he _did_ sleep.

He wished he could make the dreams stop, though.

The days were in some ways easier; he buried himself in work. Still, the small part of his treacherous brain not occupied with work often pretended she was just in another meeting, just down the hall; or on Colonial One; or taking a nap in his quarters; or setting up the settlement planet-side; or visiting the rest of the Fleet. _Maybe,_ his treacherous brain whispered, _maybe,_ _that’s what she’d doing right now._ He tried, but he couldn’t make it stop.

So. He worked and he slept. He ate obediently when Saul and Ellen and Kara and Lee and the others put the food in front of him, drank water instead of moonshine and slept when he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. They were never far from him, his family, seemingly working in shifts to ensure he was never alone long enough to sink under from the weight of his guilt and his grief. They knew him, so they respected his grief, and his privacy. It was impossible for him not to notice, though, how they worried over him.

Two months passed, and, as Lee insisted, he even went to the memorial ceremony for Laura held planet side on their new home. His family watched with concern, even as they, and he, pretended that he was simply fulfilling his duties as the Admiral of the Fleet, grieving with his people for the loss of his leader and close friend. Nevertheless, somehow he found the strength to make it through the public official ceremonies commemorating her life, her memory and her contributions as president and prophet.

He had to admit the place Lee had picked was perfect and the ceremony, during which Kara said a prayer for her late friend, was beautiful. He understood the process, and the reasoning behind it, and he so he participated in it, for her, for his family and for her people. In truth, though, in some ways it made it worse, being with people who missed her too. He couldn’t pretend she was simply off somewhere else. He had to acknowledge that she was gone. But he went, and he participated in the process, even though it didn’t take even the tiniest edge off the hatred and the anger and the grief. Or the crushing guilt.

The site was exactly as Laura had described to him on that long-ago day, on a far more desolate place, on a world half a universe away. Today would have been her birthday, and he pictured her standing next to him, enjoying the sun. Thus, he managed to spend a couple of hours planet-side, much of his attention focused on the clear, icy, fast-flowing stream located nearby.

It took everything he had to last that long, but he did it.

He counted the minutes, clinging to his stoic persona, until he could return to the _Galactica,_ to his quarters _._ They weren't home anymore, hadn’t been since Laura had left them that last time. Still, they were private. He managed to hold it together until he made it safely back to them.

And then he got stinking drunk.

Drunk, so drunk, he couldn't see, couldn't think, couldn't cry. Most importantly, he got so drunk that he couldn't remember why he lived alone.

Watching over him, Saul sat in the chair by the door, drinking steadily and quietly. He just let Bill be. Then, when Bill had drunk himself close to insensibility, when he seemed more focused on holding the glass than drinking from it, Saul repaid the favour Bill had done him not so long ago. Taking most of his weight, Saul led him over to his rack. He took off Bill’s dress sash and tunic and shoved him into his rack. He took off his shoes, threw a blanket over his friend and turned off the lights. He told the marines not to let _anyone_ in and returned to the CIC to stand watch.

Bill lay in the rack that was too cold, too quiet, and too _big_ without Laura in it. In the few minutes before he passed out, he prayed to the gods he had long ago stopped believing in. He prayed that this _once_ the booze in his system would keep him from the nightmares of Laura’s death, even if it couldn’t give him dreams of her life.

And he was still confused when he woke alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. Yell at me, I deserve it @RandomBks .
> 
> And I will hold on hope  
> And I won't let you choke  
> On the noose around your neck  
> And I'll find strength in pain  
> And I will change my ways  
> I'll know my name as it's called again  
> \- Mumford and Sons

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on twitter at @randombks if you want to come say hi.


End file.
